Burke Institute
by l0velyfe
Summary: AU: Mental hospital. A young Thor lands a grunt-job at Burke, doing manual labor, where he meets Loki, a pathological liar and long-time resident of the institute. Little did either of them know, this luck-of-the-draw will change both their lives forever. [ Rated T currently, will change to M in later chapters ] Note: no relation between Thor and Loki in this fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Burke Institute**

**_Chapter One_**

_Written by l0velyfe_

* * *

Thor had never expected to receive the call. Landing a job at Burke Institute was certainly never on his bucket list, and it definitely was not his dream job. The ad had asked for a man of considerable stature. Experience was optional, and Thor was thankful for that, because he harbored absolutely no experience of this type. Granted, he would partake in mostly manual labor – and, perhaps, physical if needed – but he was still not used to working with patients.

His first three days consisted of debriefing at a facility separate from the institute. It was without pay. They gave him a crash course to prepare him for what was to come. What to do in certain situations; how to act, how to respond to uncomfortable questions, what to do if something went terribly wrong. How to treat certain patients and how _not _to treat others. Quite honestly, Thor did not think he would remember it all. They prepared him for that, too; what to do when you aren't sure what to do.

Finally, the first real day was upon him. Thor's mind raced for the entire drive there. The institute was located far from civilization; about half an hour from Thor's apartment. Once he arrived, he joined the other employees in what they called '_detainment'_. Dress down in simple off-white scrubs. Those with longer hair – Thor fit into this category – tied it back. No sharp objects. No rings, bracelets, watches or necklaces. Only stud earrings. Shoelaces must be tucked into shoes, no facial piercings, no clips or barrettes in hair. Hands washed, plastic gloves in each pocket; a spare, just in case. Thor could not help but feel apprehensive as they filed out into the blank white corridor. Their shoes were abnormally loud on the smooth linoleum floor. Thor tried to calm his nerves; tried to tell himself he was being irrational. They were only mental patients, after all.

Only mental patients. As they passed each person, Thor could not help but wonder why they were here. Were they just sad, or suicidal? Had they murdered someone, or were they just unable to connect with reality and cope with the real world? Thor stuck close to the group of employees, avoiding eye contact with the patients. Most of them seemed inclined to do the same. Some were wandering around, some sitting on the ground. Thor had learned in his training that most patients were given a certain amount of recess time, and he assumed now must be that time.

The senior of the group led Thor and another shorter man through the main gathering room. Thor gazed about. Although he was inexperienced, he was almost positive he could identify different disorders. Some were sulking in corners by themselves, and Thor thought those were the depressed ones. Others looked just as normal as any ordinary person walking down the sidewalk. In fact, the man casually approaching him seemed quite normal.

He was quite beautiful, Thor decided. It was strange, to think of a man as beautiful; it was a word that was typically reserved for women. But this man possessed a regal beauty. He was lithe, yet tall; nearly as tall as Thor himself. His skin was pale, and raven hair contrasted drastically as it brushed his shoulders. Startlingly emerald eyes locked on his, compelling him to halt. This man was bold; different. Thor recalled the droning voice during his training. _'Introduce yourself confidently.'_

"Hello. My name is Thor," he began, more cautiously than he would have liked. Straightening himself, he stood a bit taller. "I am a new employee here and I'll be working here from now on."

The ravenet stared at him for such a long time that Thor began to regret saying anything at all. Was this man a mute? He didn't seem intimidated by him, but perhaps he was disguising it? Pools of jade scrutinized him carefully until, finally, he spoke.

"My name is Lee," he said softly, almost as if he was afraid that others around them would hear. Thor did not break eye contact to look, but he was almost positive there was no one near enough to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Lee," the blond echoed, nodding. He wanted to say more; to ask questions, but it had been made clear in his training that some patients were very uncomfortable with revealing personal information. Thor was not sure if Lee was one of those patients, but he didn't want to take that risk. He remained silent, staying true to what he had learned; patients were expected to either initiate intimate conversation, or walk away.

Lee proved that he was not the type to hide _anything_. "I have been here for five years and three months." Thor thought that was a long time, but he didn't say so. Lee went on to tell him a shortened version of his life's story; he had grown up in the same small town that Thor currently resided in. His parents were well-off; mother always at home and father away on business more often than not. He was calm and collected as he spoke, and when Thor looked at the clock, he was shocked to find that nearly an hour had passed by. He managed a quick goodbye and apology rather hastily and hurried off to the cafeteria. Joining the other man in moving the heavy tables for lunch, he mumbled an apology. The shorter man only laughed, as if he expected exactly what Thor had done.

"Got caught up chatting, huh?" Thor gazed at the hand stuck out before him for a few seconds, and then he grasped and shook it. "Name's Clint," the brunette offered. Thor told him his name. "We always welcome new faces. It's refreshing, you know?" Thor nodded, unsure if Clint was being sarcastic or not. He set the table down and turned to gaze at Clint as he spoke again. "So who held you up? Jack? That guy loves to talk."

"No, his name was Lee," Thor replied coolly.

Clint stared at him for a moment, almost blankly. Thor's stomach sank. Had he done something wrong? Disobeyed the rules within his first few hours on the job?

"Who?"

Thor stared for a few seconds. "... Lee. Dark hair, tall, green eyes..."

The blue-green gaze remained blank for another second, and then Clint broke into a grin. Plopping down upon the bench, he chuckled. "You, my friend, have been duped."

Thor's brows furrowed. "... What?"

Clint shook his head, lifting one foot to rest on the bench. "Your friend, Lee?" Thor nodded. "His real name's Loki. Whatever he told you, don't believe it. Don't believe anything he spits out of his mouth. He's a pathological liar."

Thor stared at the man for a moment in disbelief. Clint didn't seem to be kidding, and if he was, he was doing a hell of a good job keeping a straight face and putting on an act of disgust. The blond blinked once as it clicked in his head. "A pathological–"

"–liar? Yup," Clint said, matter-of-factly. "He comes up with a lot of different names. Always the same story, though; that doesn't change. A wealthy family, father always gone on business trips? Yeah," Clint continued as Thor nodded in agreement, still bewildered. "No one's been able to get the real story outta him. Always lies."

"What's wrong with him...?" Thor asked, slightly distraught that the man he'd thought to be quite normal was apparently very ill.

"Besides the tendency to lie out his ass? Well, he's got some pretty obvious mood issues. Some of the psychologists here think he's depressed, but a specialist visited about six months ago and diagnosed him as bipolar. Some days he seems different, though. I think he's got some multiple personality problems too. Some days, like today, he acts like any other proper gentleman that resides in a rich estate. But other days... Well, if you stick around long enough, you'll see."

Thor sat down next to Clint, gazing at the table distantly. Clint slapped him lightly on the back between his shoulder blades. "Don't look so down. S'not really his fault, you know. Don't take it personally; he does it to everyone."

The blond nodded, managing a smile, and they got back to work. By the time Thor had a break, Loki had been returned to his room.

On the way home, Thor's mind was not focused on the road before him. That night, as he lay down to sleep, he tried to rationalize the pull he felt toward the ravenet. It didn't sit quite right with him. Tomorrow he would go talk to Lee- no, Loki, he decided. Maybe the man would confess if Thor gave him the chance.

* * *

"Is Lee your real name?"

The dark-haired man tilted his head down, eyes darting anywhere but near Thor for quite some time. Finally, he sighed and shook his head quickly.

"... No."

Thor waited patiently. The raven-haired man fidgeted until, at last, he spoke again; a single word – a name. "... Loki."

"Loki." Emerald eyes met baby blue as the name rolled off his tongue. "I like Loki."

A slight smile curved his lips. "I like Thor," the smaller man said gently.

The blond smiled. "Do you want to know more about me, perhaps?" Loki nodded, jade eyes glinting with instant curiosity. "Well, I suppose I will tell you where I'm from first. I grew up in a different state, but I have lived in the town you grew up in for eight years."

"Do you live alone?" Loki asked suddenly and seriously. Thor smiled. He felt rather assured that the other man was truly interested.

"Yes, in an apartment on the west side of town. I had a roommate for a few months, but he was a drug addict and... Well, it did not quite work out." He frowned. "My mother passed when I was nineteen." Thor paused to think, unintentionally prompting Loki to ask another question.

"What about your father?"

"I never knew him," Thor admitted, shifting to rest his hand on the tabletop. He gazed at the ravenet evenly. "I guess he didn't really care to be in my life, nor my mother's." Loki was quiet after that, and Thor decided to continue. "I had to make my own way after my mother passed. I had already graduated from high school. I wanted to leave that town and its memories behind, so I moved out here. My girlfriend-at-the-time's parents helped as much as they could; that is, until we broke up. I did a lot of odd jobs, but I did not mind much. They brought me here, and I have met many new people and made new friends. I would not change anything that has happened thus far."

Loki gazed at the man's chin instead of meeting his eyes. Thor wished he wouldn't. With a soft sigh, he spoke softly; cautiously. Not because he was frightened of Loki – as most others were, he had been told – but because he did not wish to upset him. "How are you today?"

"Cold," Loki responded immediately, eyes dropping to the other man's hands.

"Would you like a sweater?"

"No. It won't help," he mumbled, shifting in his seat. He glanced around the large room. Thor frowned slightly. Abruptly, emerald eyes rose to meet his, stealing the breath from his lungs and startling him. "Do you think me mad?"

All Thor could manage in response was a breathless, throaty chuckle. Drawing in a breath through his nose, he clenched his fingers into a loose fist upon the tabletop. "... No, Loki. True, I have not known you for very long, but I do not believe you are mad. Perhaps you are troubled and burdened with incidents from your past, as is everyone. But you have not yet proven to me that you are mentally incompetent."

Loki seemed rather satisfied with that answer. Taking a sip from his glass of orange juice, he met Thor's eyes with a bit more confidence than usual.

"Well, Thor, I do not believe you are mad, either."

* * *

Dry, golden-brown leaves crunched and crackled underneath their feet as they walked down the path. A gentle autumn breeze rustled the trees around them, sending more leaves spiraling to scatter the ground. The sun peeked out from the clouds every so often, its rays warm and fleeting. Very few patients inhabited the courtyard. One would assume the cause of such was the institute's restrictions, but Thor knew better. Clint had told him that most of the patients were frightened to venture outside; either due to past experiences or irrational fear. Some were even apprehensive of the windows upon the building.

Loki was not one of those patients. In fact, with Loki, the case was the other way around. Thor had to wrestle with the supervisors of the institute for a good time before they would allow Thor to take him out into the yard. Finally, they came to the conclusion that Thor could handle Loki, should he act out, and, ultimately, they decided that it would be allowed this one time.

Now, Loki walked beside Thor, hands stuffed into his pockets, head down. Clint was right. He was different today. He looked sad; almost crestfallen, and it made Thor unhappy as well. He attempted to divert Loki's attention by initiating a conversation. He knew the man well enough by now to know he would not feel threatened or be thrown off if Thor spoke first.

"Do you like autumn?"

Loki only nodded, not raising his head as Thor glanced sideways at him. The blond tried again, wanting to hear his voice. "It is my favorite season. What is yours?"

"Winter," he whispered, almost inaudibly. Thor sighed, raising his eyes to the garden they were approaching. There were benches amongst the bushes and flowers, and Thor moved over to sit upon one. He was silent as Loki stood off to the side, hoping he would feel comfortable enough to sit beside him. Finally, the ravenet edged closer and sat beside him, not quite touching, yet not far from it either. Thor hid his smile by scratching his chin. Gazing at the flowers, he decided to ask another question.

"Do you have a favorite flower?"

"Roses," Loki answered almost too quickly. Thor nodded, gazing out at the garden wistfully.

"My mother used to have a garden in our front yard. She would tend to it for hours on end, every day. I believe it was her favorite way to pass the time. Sometimes I would help her when I was younger. I pulled weeds and clipped stems. Whatever she needed done, I did it."

Loki gazed at the blond, watching him admire the garden thoughtfully. Golden hair was pulled back into an untidy bun, scruff upon his strong jaw and chin. The slope of his nose, thin lips slightly pursed, baby blue eyes; Loki took notice of it all, observing him absentmindedly. His gaze dropped to his lap after a moment.

"Chrysanthemums."

Thor turned to look at the raven-haired man as he spoke the single word, confusion furrowing his brow. "... What?"

Loki raised his eyes to tentatively meet Thor's. "... Chrysanthemums are my favorite flower."

Thor smiled.

* * *

"Do you draw?"

Thor looked at Clint over the heavy box of kitchen supplies in his arms. He quirked an eyebrow inquisitively, shifting the box in his arms. "Draw?"

"Yeah, like landscapes and Picasso, you know." Clint grinned. "We're having an artistic convention – I guess you could call it – tomorrow afternoon. The institute does it every year. The patients and employees all draw and paint stuff, but the staff always has a little contest. First place gets a hundred bucks." Clint set his box down and brushed his hands off on his pants. "I mean, if you're any good, you could show some of the seniors what's up."

"Uh..." Thor half-dropped, half-set his heavy box next to Clint's and dragged an arm across his brow. "Nah, I can't really... Draw."

"Me neither." The brunette grinned lopsidedly, waving a hand dismissively. "I mean, I can sorta–"

Clint's words were abruptly interrupted by a loud, angry cry echoing off the white walls. The two men turned to look at each other in surprised confusion until another strangled yell followed the first. Thor acted immediately, running out of the storage room with Clint hot on his heels. Their boots echoed loudly in the corridor. The cries were coming from one of the far rooms where the group counseling sessions were usually held. Thor and Clint came to a stumbling halt as they rounded a corner and reached the source of the screams. Two large guards were hauling a thrashing, smaller patient from the room, struggling to restrain him. They turned and one of them moved to attempt to hold the patient somewhat still as the other tried to tie his wrists together with the standard white cuffs. The man threw his head back, tossing black locks from his face.

... Loki.

Thor stared as the ravenet snarled at the guard holding him, swinging a leg up in an attempt to knee him in the groin. Finally, the man seemed to have had enough and wrestled Loki to the ground, pushing him face-down into the tile floor and sitting on his upper back. The smaller man cried out again, struggling in vain. He looked up and around the room, as if searching for something to assist him in throwing the man off. He quickly noticed two men standing there, and his eyes met Thor's for a brief moment. He stilled.

And that was enough time for the irritated guard to snap the cuffs around his wrists and haul him up to his own feet. Thor had to bite his tongue as they dragged him away bodily, calling for a nurse to bring in an injection of anesthesia.


	2. Chapter 2

**Burke Institute**

**_Chapter Two_**

* * *

Clint found Thor gazing at Loki through the plastic window. His expression was sad. The brunette waited for a few minutes before moving over to cautiously interrupt his silent thoughtfulness.

"He's probably feelin' better now. They gave him some meds overnight. You could try to talk to him." Thor turned his head to look at Clint, surprise written over his features. The short man mustered a smile. "He seems to like talkin' to you, so maybe you can get him to open up."

Thor nodded, allowing a small smile to cross his lips as he did so. He lifted his hand to the knob, and then paused. "How long until–"

"Lunch is in an hour, but I dunno if he'll go out with everyone else."

With a nod and a reassuring pat on the back, Clint turned to leave. Thor watched him retreat down the corridor before turning the knob of the door. He opened it slowly; carefully, almost, and stepped into the brightly lit room. Emerald eyes darted to fix on him.

The ravenet was strapped to the white cot in an upright position, belts crossing his chest, thighs and shins horizontally. He was pale, and looked tired – not physically, because the medicine that had been injected directly into his bloodstream had forced his body into unconsciousness – but rather, emotionally and mentally exhausted. There was not a trace of the violent being Thor had witnessed the previous night; only a vulnerable, weary man sat before him. Thor felt his sadness surface in his eyes and expression as he pulled the single chair within the room forward to sit beside the cot. Loki was quiet for a long moment, and silence wrapped around them like a light blanket. Finally, Thor thought the moment was right to speak.

"Hello, Loki," he murmured, baby blue irises resting wistfully on the dark-haired male. Loki's brows crinkled together momentarily, almost as if hearing his name upon Thor's lips caused him some sort of emotional pain or discomfort. Thor made a mental note not to speak his name anymore in the immediate future. Loki raised his eyes to meet Thor's gaze hesitantly.

"Do you think me mad now, Thor?"

The blond stared at Loki for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, Loki. I think you need a friend."

To Thor's dismay, Loki's jade eyes began to water. For a second, the man hesitated. Then, against his better judgment, Thor reached forward to unfasten the straps that bound Loki's body to the cot. The slighter man sat quite still as Thor worked to remove the belts, but the very moment the last one fell from his body to hang limply from the cot, Loki lunged forward to bury himself against the larger man's body. Thor remained motionless for a moment, rather surprised, but when he heard a muffled sob escape the ravenet's lips, his arms came around the man protectively. His brows furrowed as Loki trembled against him.

"It's alright," he murmured, smoothing a hand over the smaller one's back. "I've got you. You're alright now."

Thor had never been one for comforting others; he was sympathetic, yes, but the act of reassuring was something he had never quite grasped in his lifetime. Thankfully, it seemed like Loki did not require many words of comfort. Simply lying in Thor's arms seemed to calm him, and his crying soon began to cease. His trembling continued, though, and Thor did not release him.

"Loki," he whispered. "Tell me what is wrong. Please. I swear to you I will not speak a word of it to another soul."

Loki held his breath for a short moment, and Thor almost did not expect a response until Loki let his breath out in a quick, hard sigh. Thor felt his heart jump in his chest. Was Loki going to tell him something new...?

"I–... I lied to you," he whispered, long fingers clutching Thor's bicep. Thor shook his head.

"It is alright," he murmured. "I do not blame you for anything, Loki."

Loki swallowed, tightening his slender hands into fists as he clenched Thor's t-shirt in his palm. Thor vaguely wondered if Loki thought he was going to stand up and leave, or perhaps even disappear into thin air. The blond tightened his hold on the slighter man, as if to reassure him that he would not be going anywhere anytime soon.

Suddenly, it dawned upon him. "... Did someone leave you, Loki? Did someone abandon you during your lifetime?" The raven-haired man sniffled and nodded quickly, seeming to be ashamed by the topic. Thor frowned deeply. He pulled back, maintaining his grip on the man's slender shoulders. "Rest assured that I will take what you say here to my grave, Loki."

The smaller man hesitated for a long while. Thor feared he had pushed Loki too far in his questioning and the man would distance himself now and never speak another word around him. But, finally, after what seemed like hours, Loki spoke.

"My mother," he whispered, almost inaudibly. His lips continued to move, meaning to say more, but no sound came out. Thor slowly brought the man back into his arms, embracing him and holding him close. Loki was silent, save for the occasional sniffle.

"How old were you when she left?" Thor dared to ask. Loki answered almost immediately, though his voice trembled.

"Seven years old."

"That is quite young," Thor replied quietly. The gears began to turn in his head. In Loki's original story, he had lived with his mother while his father had been away on business. If this new development was true and Loki's mother did not exist in his life, then whom did he live with before he was admitted to the institution? "May I ask why she left?"

At that, Loki's fingers clenched Thor's skin almost painfully. Thor winced. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Thor murmured softly, his lips nearly brushing the man's hair. Loki was silent; simply clinging onto Thor as if he were a lifeline.

* * *

"So you got through, huh? Broke down those walls?"

"It will take quite some time to 'break down his walls,' as you say."

"Yeah, yeah. But I mean, he told you some stuff."

"Yes."

"I guess he just likes you." Clint smirked as he unloaded a water jug from the supply truck.

"He needs someone to ask the right questions. That is all," Thor replied, stacking two boxes of canned food upon each other before lifting them from the truck.

"So you're really not gonna tell any of the psychologists?"

"I swore to him," Thor murmured, his voice strained as he hauled the boxes into the building through the open garage door. Clint grabbed a single box and hurried after him. "I swore to him on my life."

"You can't even tell me?"

Thor set his boxes down beside the others and sighed. "Let's just say that his story about his life is not completely true."

"Well everyone knows that. How do you know he didn't lie to you again?"

Thor paused, turning to look at Clint doubtfully. The brunette idly shrugged one shoulder. "I mean, you gotta remember that lying is like second nature to him. Most of the time he doesn't even realize he's doing it. He may think he's telling the truth, but he'll realize later that he lied."

"I believe he was telling the truth," Thor murmured, walking past Clint. "He was very upset. It was genuine."

"If you say so," Clint said, stumbling over his feet to follow him. Thor bit his tongue as they returned to the supply truck.

* * *

Thor was startled from his slumber by the shrill ringing of his cellphone. It buzzed along the side table, vibrating as it rang. Rubbing an eye sleepily, he stretched his arm from the warmth of his sheets to pick it up and push the answer button. "Hello?" he said groggily.

"Thor?" The blond sat up, a little more alert once he recognized Clint's voice.

"It is me."

"Hey buddy, sorry to wake you up."

"No, it's alright. What's up?"

"It's, ah..." Clint paused, and the line crackled with static at his silence. "It's Loki."

"What about him?" Thor asked immediately, gripping the phone tightly in his hand. Clint was quiet for a few seconds – too long for Thor's short patience. "Tell me!"

"He attacked me. Stole my pistol. He's holed up in the kitchen and not even the infirmary guys can get close enough to tranquillize him without him threatening to shoot them. Apparently someone spilled the beans about the transfers."

Thor sat there for a moment, allowing Clint's words to sink into his mind as he attempted to work the situation out. Then, he stood, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he pulled sweatpants up his leg. "... You need me to come in."

"You're the only one he listens to..." Clint's voice sounded apologetic. "Boss is hoping you can negotiate with him. Or at least get the gun outta his hand."

"I'll be right there."

Not five minutes later, Thor was speeding down the dark stretch of highway carved through the thick forest to the institution in his Subaru. Thor had never driven to Burke at night; usually only one guard was needed for security during after hours, and Clint always worked graveyard. Honestly, Thor did not understand how Clint could work so many hours in one day. He nearly lived at the institute. Thor had no idea of his home life, but he had to assume that the brunette had no family or attachments outside of Burke.

He was surprised that there were no flashing blue and red lights when he pulled into the parking lot. He parked hastily by the curb and half-jumped, half-tripped out of his car to jog in through the front door. Two nurses led him through the corridors quickly, but he ran ahead of them once he saw Clint.

"Are you alright?" Thor could see the beginnings of a bruised eye on Clint's face, and he held back a wince. The brunette shrugged.

"Yeah, I've been worse. Jack's about to call the cops."

"No. Don't call the police." Thor glanced at Jack, then around at the frightened group of workers. There were not many of them due to the fact that it was nighttime and not many worked so late, and about half of the small number had been dispatched to make sure none of the other patients escaped from their quarters during the chaos.

"Let me try to reason with him first," Thor murmured. Some looked uncertain. Clint, being the most senior employee present and, therefore, in charge, gave the final nod.

"If we hear any sign of a struggle, we're dialing."

Thor nodded in understanding, and then turned the corner to the kitchen door. There were no windows upon the door, and it simply swung open when pushed forward. Thor stopped, taking a breath to calm himself, and then he spoke.

"Loki?" No response. "Loki, it is me, Thor. I'm going to open the door now." Silence. Cautiously, the man outstretched his arm to nudge the door open. He peeked inside, edging forward to peer further into the kitchen until he spotted Loki.

The lean man was pressed up against the corner where a counter and cabinet intersected. He seemed to shrink into himself when Thor laid eyes upon him. He was silent. The blond stepped onto the tile, boots making a soft thud as he allowed the door to swing shut behind him. Quietly, he took a step forward. Loki swallowed hard and raised the gun he held in two shaky hands to point it at Thor's figure. The larger man found himself gazing down the short barrel of a shaking pistol.

"Loki," Thor murmured, his voice low and quiet. "Please listen. You're alright now. There's no need to–"

"They're going to transfer me...!" Loki cried, his voice hoarse and cracking. His hands shook more from the effort. Thor's brows furrowed. "They're going to drag me away from this place, whether I like it or not! Whether I fight or not, it will not matter...!"

"I would not allow it," Thor murmured huskily. Two tears trickled down Loki's cheeks slowly as he bared his teeth.

"I don't want to go!" he shouted suddenly, startling even Thor, and he recovered from his jump quickly.

"Loki, listen to me," Thor said, keeping his voice low as he slowly approached the ravenet. Loki's entire body trembled. "You are not going anywhere."

"I don't want to go without you...!" Loki choked out, knuckles beginning to turn white from gripping the gun so tightly. Thor was quiet for a moment, allowing the man's words to sink in. Did Loki truly mean that? Despite the situation, Thor felt the choked-out-sentence hit home within him, and it only drove him further to retrieve the gun from the man without any casualties.

"I would go with you," Thor said gently, only about four feet from Loki now.

"No," Loki cried, tears streaking down his face. "You couldn't..." He sank to crouch on the floor with his back against the counter, shaking his head repeatedly; almost methodically. "No, no..." he whispered. The pistol slowly changed direction, dropping until the barrel now pressed against Loki's temple. Thor's eyes widened. Suddenly, the situation was even more desperate.

"Loki–... Loki, no–"

"Don't leave me," the man whispered, chin trembling. Thor took another large step forward, closing the distance between them. He stood above him.

"I won't. Don't _you _leave _me_," the blond said softly, reaching out to him. "Please, Loki, give me the gun, and I swear to you that I will never leave you."

Ever-so-slowly, Loki lowered the pistol from his head, dragging the end down his cheek and jaw until it rested on his collarbone. A sob escaped his throat. Thor inched closer, only breathing a sigh of relief when his fingers wrapped around the gun and pried it from Loki's sweaty hand. He set the weapon on the counter above them and kneeled back down to envelope the man in his arms. He held him there, even as Clint and a few others came in to take the pistol and penetrate Loki's bicep with a needle.

"I will not leave you," Thor whispered as Loki unwillingly drifted into unconsciousness.

And he didn't. As he was carrying the man back to his room, Thor finally understood. He laid Loki down on his cot and watched him sleep. Only then did he realize that he'd fallen in love with the man.


End file.
